The Latin Lovers
by campy
Summary: Recipe: Take one posh corporate jet. Stir in two teenagers in love. Do NOT add any adult supervision. Sounds like a pretty spicy dish, no? There's one minor complication: a looming final exam deadline. Nvmber III of the Essential Ronness series.
1. Amor vincit omnia

Welcome to the third installment of _Essential Ronness_.

Many thanks to the reviewers of ER II: the Desert Fox, mattb3671, MrDrP, Azu Luna, JPMod, Zaratan, Rowena, Jezrianna2.0, conan98002, Darlene, Dixon-San, Louis Mielke, spectre666 and surforst.

Special thanks to MrDrP for taking the time to beta read this.

Disclaimer: Disney owns all the Kim Possible characters. I maybe own Berg, but what good is he?

* * *

**_Kim Possible_  
**in  
**  
The Latin Lovers**

(An _Essential Ronness_ Story)

by  
_ campy_

Chapter I  
_Amor vincit omnia ..._

Deep within the evil lair of the mad scientist Zoltan Demenz, also known as Professor Dementor, two figures crept quietly along a ventilation duct. Their mission: save the world. One, a boy with messy blond hair and freckles, dressed in black and gray, carried a small hairless rodent in his pants pocket. The other was a svelte, attractive girl clad in white trimmed in sky blue, with flame-red hair framing her moon-shaped face, and large, expressive green eyes. They were teens (the boy and girl that is, the rodent was younger), best friends, and heroes; famed around the world as the field operatives of Team Possible. Well, the girl was famous — she was still working on getting her partners their due.

"I'm still not sure about this plan, KP," the boy whispered.

"Ron, it's the only way. You and Rufus need to plug the Kimmunicator into Dementor's system so Wade can hack in. I'll keep the musclemen occupied. Once Wade has control you can unplug and come help me — if I even need help."

"No offense, KP, but these guys are supposed to be stronger than Hego, and super fast too. Plus the HenchCo infomercial says even some medium-size handgun ammo won't hurt them. I don't want you fighting them alone."

"Don't put so much stock in HenchCo hype, Ron. Even if they really are that tough I'm sure I'll be able to avoid them with my cheer moves. Besides, we don't have a choice. Shutting down Dementor and stopping him from releasing the pathogen are the top priority. Okay, here's the vent for the computer room. Good luck, you guys."

Kim continued until she reached Professor Dementor's inner sanctum. _No sign of the guards … I sure hope they didn't find Ron. Of course, Dementor has to be on the other side of the room … it would be too easy if I could just jump on him from this vent. Well, here goes …_

"Surrender, Dementor!" Kim demanded.

"I will NOT, Kim Possible! Nothing can stop the release of my pathogen into the Gulf Stream!" the diminutive megalomaniac shrieked, pressing a button on his console. "Elite Guard, to me THIS INSTANT!"

Doors on either side of the room slid open and six of the largest men Kim had ever seen stormed into the Command Center, lining up flanking their employer. All were well over seven feet tall, and looked to be about four feet wide across the shoulders. Their gray body suits stretched tight over bulging muscles, and each sported a thick gold-colored ring studded with glowing LEDs on his right index finger.

"HenchCo musclemen, Dementor? Been there, beat that." Kim affected a yawn. "At least the wiener dogs were original. You should have stuck to them. Oh, sorry; I know that's a sore subject ..."

"Do not count your victories before they have been won, my young foe. Each of these men is as powerful as TEN wearing the first-generation Molecular Muscle Enhancer. They are capable of running 1500 meters in three minutes while carrying a 200-kilogram load, and they are practically impervious to injury. As a team, they could defeat an entire infantry company with their bare hands. However, I am feeling generous today. I will allow you to fight them one at a time. _Feldwebel _Berg, subdue Kim Possible!"

The largest man-mountain detached himself from the group and approached Kim confidently.

Kim didn't wait for him to reach her. She charged at the giant, launching into a series of handsprings, and unleashed a powerful kick that caught him smack in the face. The HenchCo-enhanced brute merely stared impassively at her as she fell at his feet, pain shooting up her right leg from foot to hip.

"Okay, maybe there's a little more to these goons than hype," she muttered, rolling clear and rising to her feet.

Pushing aside the pain, she charged again and punched the guard in the solar plexus with all her might.

"Ow, this is so wrong!" she hissed through clenched teeth, rubbing her sore hand.

Furious now, she kicked the supersoldier between his legs as hard as she could. The only noticeable result was that now three of her limbs were throbbing with pain.

As Kim hopped around trying to think of what to try next, Berg reached down with inhuman speed and clamped a massive hand around her left ankle. Straightening up, he held her upside down as easily as if she were a sack of feathers.

"Ron! Where are you? A little help, please." she hollered.

"Right here, KP!" Ron came out from behind a massive mainframe computer, Kimmunicator in hand, and pointed the device at the guard holding Kim. A blue beam shot from the emitter port on top and struck the man. Ron let the light wash over him for a moment, then gave the other five behemoths the same treatment.

Suddenly the beam disappeared and the Kimmunicator erupted in a burst of sparks. Ron flung the device away with a yelp and began slapping at his pants, which had caught fire in a couple of places before falling down around his ankles. Professor Dementor and his six Elite Guards looked at one another and started to laugh at Ron's antics. No one noticed the first tiny sparks and wisps of smoke issuing from the HenchCo rings. Everyone in the room, however, noticed when the six enhanced guards began to scream in agony, fall to the floor and shrink back to their normal size. Dementor sputtered with incoherent rage.

Ron, having remedied his wardrobe glitch, quickly ran to Kim, her erstwhile captor having dropped her, and helped her to her feet. "You okay, Kim?" he asked in a concerned voice.

She nodded. "I'm fine, Ron. Nothing's broken, thanks to the Suit."

"Sorry about the delay, KP. Wade had a little trouble hacking into the system, but he made it. The pathogen release is cancelled, GJ will be outside in two minutes, and explosions should be starting right about …"

Muffled explosions were heard coming from the more distant parts of the lair.

"... now. By the way, mad props on the bon-diggity distraction job."

"Thanks, Ron. That's high praise coming from you. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a runt to capture." She ran off in pursuit of the fleeing Dementor, pausing briefly to spray the other five guards with constricting elastic, immobilizing them.

Ron watched her go, then turned his attention to the now rather less imposing figure of _Feldwebel _Berg, who was starting to crawl away. Grabbing the goon by a baggy sleeve, Ron hauled him to his feet and slammed him against the wall. "You," he snarled, getting right in the man's face. "Dude, you are so lucky Kim's okay. If you had hurt her, I'd be so angry right now ..." Ron could feel the mystical power surge within him. He fought for control; he knew that if he allowed the Power to nourish the dark emotions now simmering deep inside him he might lose his very soul.

Berg was terrified. No longer the super-powerful giant strutting around a high-tech lab, he was still taller and stronger-looking than Ron. It didn't seem so to Berg, though. He felt like a very small animal at the mercy of a jungle beast. He thought he could even smell the jungle closing in around him.

"Come on, Ron!" Kim shouted, as the fires and explosions neared the command center. "Let's get these prisoners out of here and hand them over to Global Justice."

_Remember, Kim's okay, Rondo,_ he told himself. _Focus on Kim. Peace and love, it's all good._ "That girl is the most important person in the world to me, Dude," he told the quaking thug. "I love her." He let go of Berg and stepped back, his sunny side asserting itself again, the Power quiescent once more. "Now, let's get you and your buds out of here before this place blows up."

* * *

With the Kimmunicator non-functional, Team Possible borrowed a GJ comm radio to call Wade. 

"Okay, Wade, mission accomplished." Kim reported. "You were right, as usual — a few seconds of the anti-Hench-tech ray and the Kimmunicator went kablooie."

"Good thing Dementor called all his guards to himself when you dropped in on him, so Ron could zap them all at once."

"Just like we planned it. We'd have had a rough time if we'd left any still enhanced. My best kung fu was like nothing to those guys. They were way too powerful."

"Not to worry, Kim. By the time you go on another mission the beam will be completely reliable. I'll also build one right into the Battle Suit. And Ron will have one in his new battle outfit when it's ready."

"All right! My own supersuit! The Ronman finally gets his upgrade!"

Kim leaned over and whispered in his ear, "I happen to think the Ronman is pretty amazing right off the shelf."

Ron grinned at the compliment and wrapped an arm around his girlfriend's waist.

"Yeah, Ron," Wade went on, "and I designed it so there's no way you can accidentally turn the systems against yourself."

"Don't get cocky, Wade," Kim teased. "You're dealing with the Ron Factor here. Chaos, remember?"

"Hey!" Ron protested.

"So have you got a ride home for us, Wade?"

"I do, Kim. I called in a favor from Granny Crockett. Should be landing in about half a minute."

"Mmmmm, cookies!" Rufus exclaimed.

Kim and Ron looked up and saw a hover jet descending to meet them.

"Hmm," Ron mused, as the jet landed and the door opened to form an access ramp. "There's something very familiar about this plane." The two teens climbed the ramp and entered the spacious cabin. The figure in the command seat swiveled around to face them. It was an automaton in the form of the head and torso of a human pilot, wearing a blue jacket, a necktie, and a military officer-style cap.

"Now I recognize it! This is the jet I leased for us when I had the naco millions! Yo, Robo-Pilot Dude! You're working for Granny now? Sweet!"

"Good afternoon Mr. Stoppable, Miss Possible, Mr. Rufus. Welcome to _Chip Force One._ I am very pleased to see you again. I do not understand this term 'Robo-Pilot Dude,' however. My designation is Multi-Robotic Flight Electronics Exosystem and Navigational Information Entity."

"Now there's a mouthful." Kim observed, settling onto the upholstered banquette.

"Indeed, Miss Possible. Perhaps that is why my developers shortened it. They call me MR FEENIE."

"Mister Feenie? Huh?" Ron said, obviously perplexed. "Oh, I get it! It's one of those acker numb thingies …"

"You mean 'acronym,' Ron. A word formed from initials or parts of words."

"Ri–i–ight. KP, don't bother trying to teach me any English right now. All I want to do is pass that Latin final tomorrow and get on with the most badical summer vacay ever! Hot summer fun for the Ronman and his hot girlfriend!"

"Okay, Ron. Sounds like a plan. Let's get started studying." She reached into her backpack and pulled out her well-thumbed copy of _Wheelock's Latin_. "Did you bring your study guide?"

Ron just sat back and stared at Kim under raised eyebrows.

"KP, you want to study _now?"_

"Yes, Ron. What else are we going to do?"

Ron sat up and slid closer to Kim, affecting what he liked to think of as his debonair superspy face. "Well, Agent Possible," he said, in a mock-Etonian accent (or maybe it was an Estonian accent) as he placed a hand on her knee, "I don't know how you in the colonies do things, but in Her Majesty's Secret Service it's our practice to … (hand moves higher) … debrief … (squeeze) … after a successful mission."

Kim took Ron's wrist and lifted his hand from her thigh. "Double–O puh-leeze, Commander Blond!" she said with a laugh. "You're telling me you want to make out when we have our Latin final at nine tomorrow morning?"

"Kim, Kim, Kim … You really don't understand guys, do you? For future reference: you never need to ask that question. I _always_ want to make out with you. C'mon, we've got two hours' flight back home, and the closest thing to a chaperone is ol' Feenie here. We'll have plenty of time to study when we get back to Middleton."

"Look, Lover Boy, I like to make out with you too, but right now we need to study. It was your idea to take Latin in the first place."

"Uh-huh, yeah, Kim. That's when I thought I'd be cooking up a batch of _quesadillas_ or something for the final. Not trying to learn a dead language."

"You think Latin's dead, Ron? Your love life will be even deader if I lose my straight-A average because of you. Oh, and for _your_ future reference, I have no intention of dating any mere junior next year, so you're going to want to pass this exam too. Otherwise you'll be enjoying hot summer school with Mr. Barkin while I'm hanging out at Lake Middleton. In my new swimsuit. My two-piece swimsuit."

"T– t– two? P– piece? … Simswoot? …" Ron's gaze traveled lasciviously up and down Kim's Battle Suit-clad figure. In his mind's eye the form-fitting suit disappeared, leaving only tanned, glistening skin and a few tiny bits of cloth.

"I was hoping you'd be around to help me put suntan lotion on," she cooed coquettishly, "but I suppose I could ask someone else …"

He blinked four or five times, then shook his head as if reeling from a Kim Possible roundhouse. Reaching for his backpack he rummaged inside, quickly locating his own textbook and study guide, as well as his Latin-English dictionary. "All right then, let's get studying. Okay, we've got our cases: Nominative, for the subject of the sentence; Genitive, indicates possession, that's like when we stick one of those up-high commas and an 's' at the end of a word in English; Dative, …"

It's amazing what a little motivation can do.

* * *

Thus ends Chapter I. 

So the question is: Will our two heroes spend the entire flight studying? They face an important final exam in a matter of hours; it would certainly be the wisest thing to do. But as Publilius Syrus so aptly observed: _Amare et sapere vix deo conceditur._ (Even a god finds it hard to love and be wise at the same time.)

The answer can be found, surprise surprise, in Chapter II.


	2. nos cedamus amori

A/N: Welcome back, faithful readers. Those of you who've studied Latin will no doubt have observed that the title of this chapter pretty much answers the question we were left with after Chapter I. (Will our two heroes spend the entire flight studying?) Then again, the Publilius Syrus quote was already kind of a giveaway, wasn't it? The fact that this story is listed as a Romance probably tipped you off as well. So I guess we all have an idea what to expect. Of course, the real fun lies in seeing _how_ events play out.

Many thanks to spectre666, Jezrianna2.0, MrDrP, Louis Mielke, JPMod, Zaratan, John Steppenwolf, Flaming Gun, Ultimate Naco Topping, mattb3671, and SHADOW ANGUS for their reviews of Chapter I.

Once again, extra-special thanks to MrDrP for his beta-reader services.

Obligatory witty disclaimer: Disney owns Kim Possible, Ron, Rufus, et al. The robot, Mr. Feenie, is a trademark of the Sirius Cybernetics Corporation, the marketing staff of which will be the first against the wall when the revolution comes, for reasons too numerous to list here.

* * *

**_Kim Possible_  
**in

**The Latin Lovers**

(An _Essential Ronness_ Story)

by  
_ campy_

Chapter II  
_... nos cedamus amori_

Kim looked up from her textbook. She glanced at the clock in the cabin; they'd been in flight for just over an hour. Ron was studiously going over a set of vocabulary flash cards. _Wow, this is really amazing. I've never seen him focus for so long without a video game controller in his hands,_ she thought. _Let's see how deep this goes ..._

She shut her book with a soft 'thump' and set it aside. She'd been sitting with her legs drawn up under her; she stretched them out in front of Ron, raised each foot in turn and wiggled it. No reaction. She laced her fingers together and stretched her arms up above her head as high as she could reach. Ron's attention never wavered from the cards.

_Hmm, I was sure that move would have gotten _some_ attention,_ she thought. _Okay, Possible, time to break out the big guns — so to speak. _Arching her back, she slowly inhaled a deep cleansing breath, held it, and let it out with an audible sigh. _Not even a flicker. He is so in the study zone._ She tried the same ploy again, a little more emphatic. Ron looked up, beaming.

"Woo Hoo!" he exclaimed, flinging the stack of cards up in the air. "Who da man? Who is da man? Da Ronman's da man! Got the whole set down, KP! Forty cards! Or as we Latin scholars say, 'XL' cards."

"That's great, Ron. What say we take a little break now?"

"I dunno, Kim, I should go over this list of irregular verbs here, and then I should take a crack at translating that ode on page …"

"Ron, I think we can spare some time now," she coaxed. "We can review some more after we get home."

"Kim, you're the one who told me I need to pass this exam or else. Clock's ticking, KP. _Tempus fugit_ … hey, that was Latin!"

"See, Ron, you know this stuff better than you think," she said brightly.

She moved to him and knelt on the seat astride his lap. "But if you'd rather not take a break, why don't we practice some … conjugation?" she purred, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I'll start. _Amare: _to love." She lightly kissed the tip of his nose. _"Amo ...,"_ she kissed his left cheek, a fraction of an inch from the corner of his mouth. "… I love," same deal, other cheek. _"Amas ...,"_ she ever so gently brushed his lips with her own. "… You love …"

She never did reach the third person singular.

* * *

After they had kissed and cuddled for a while, Kim pulled away. "I suppose you'll want to get back to your studying now," she offered, starting to get up. 

"Uh uh uh, KP," Ron protested, pulling her back onto his lap. "We're still in mission mode until this plane lands. You're the team leader; I think we should pick it up at home like you suggested."

Kim smiled coyly, and reaching a hand to her collar began to slowly unzip her battle suit. "It's starting to get a little warm in here ..." she commented.

"I can adjust the cabin temperature for you, Miss Possible," the pilot interjected helpfully.

"Just fly the plane, Mr. Feenie, please and thank you," Kim said, a slight edge to her voice. "Don't worry about us back here, we'll be fine."

Rufus hopped down from his perch on the co-pilot's seat and unfastened a tieback. Tugging hard, he drew a curtain across the cabin, affording the couple some privacy. He then scampered up to the instrument panel and flipped a switch that dimmed the cabin lights to a more suitable level. "Fly plane," he admonished Mr. Feenie. "And more cookies!" he added.

"Yes, Mr. Rufus," the robot sighed, opening another snack bin.

"Now, where were we?" asked Kim.

"Things were warming up," Ron prompted.

"Oh, that's right." She tugged at the hem of his mission shirt. "I bet you'd be a lot more comfortable out of this. Why don't you let me help you with it."

Ron raised his arms above his head and let her pull the garment off him.

"There, I helped you cool off; now you should be a good honorary Pixie and help me in return," she murmured seductively, fingering her zipper pull.

Ron took hold and slowly unzipped the high-tech suit. "Say when."

Suddenly he halted.

"Uhhhh, Kim," he said. "You're not wearing a b– b–"

"A bra?" she finished, placing her hand over his and guiding it down several more inches. "I know. The Battle Suit actually works better against bare skin. Wade says the fabric uses the electrolytes in perspiration and my body heat to generate power."

"And you do have an exceptionally hot body, KP," Ron said with an exaggerated leer.

"Watch it, Bad Boy." Kim chided him with her voice, but clearly relished the compliment.

"Anyway, the suit gives me all the support I really need — I'm not exactly built like Bonnie — and to be honest, it just feels so good against my skin ... although you feel even better. Mmmm, oh yesss, I love that ..."

Ron did too, along with the ardent kisses that ensued.

* * *

When their lips finally parted, Kim looked into Ron's brown eyes and saw an impish gleam. 

"What?" she inquired.

"I was just wondering how far this bare-skin deal goes, KP. Anything under here?" he asked, playfully squeezing her toned, shapely _glutei_.

Kim blushed pink, but looked steadily at Ron. "Stick around and you may get to find out, Mad Dog ... _Someday_."

"I'm looking forward to it, KP," he said sincerely.

"Likewise," Kim responded, bringing her lips to his once more.

* * *

As Kim and Ron enjoyed their romantic interlude, _Chip Force One_ continued on course for Middleton. At about one hundred miles out, the robot pilot spoke up. 

"Mr. Rufus," he said, "we are approaching our destination. Should I inform Miss Possible and Mr. Stoppable?"

"Hold on," the naked mole rat chirped. He hopped down and peeked behind the curtain. After assessing the sitch, he climbed back up to the right seat. "Nuh-uh, busy. No land yet," he instructed the pilot. "Fly circles!"

"Circles?"

"Circles!" he affirmed, waving a foreleg in the air for emphasis. "And need cookies!"

* * *

The next day dawned warm and sunny. Kim and her parents were in the kitchen breakfasting when Ron came in. 

"_Ave, familia_ Possible!" he said in greeting.

Kim rose and gave him a "Hi, Ron" and a chaste kiss. James Possible rustled his newspaper and harrumphed something that might have been hello.

"Hello, Ron," Ann Possible replied warmly. "It sounds like you're all set for your Latin final. Can I fix you some breakfast?"

"Very tempting offer, Mrs. Dr. P., but no thanks. I thought I'd treat your lovely daughter to brunch at the _Chateau de Flapjacks_ after our exam."

"Kimmie, you're a very lucky girl. That's so sweet, Ron. I'm sure you'll do very well on the exam. You've turned into quite the Latin scholar."

"I'm all about Latin, Mrs. Dr. P. I think I was a Roman gladiator or something in a past life."

"Roamin' hands at the very least, I'll wager," James muttered from behind the _Examiner_.

"Dad!" Kim gasped. "James!" Ann scolded. "Ah ... uh ... gulp ... um ..." was the best Ron could manage.

"Oh, sorry. Did I say that out loud?"

"We need to get going, Ron. Bye, Mom ... Dad." That last was said in a distinctly chilly tone, and the look she shot her mother was as eloquent as could be: _Please talk to him._ The two teens headed off to school.

"James Possible, I can't believe you said that. You embarrassed them. I thought we agreed you would ease up on Ron. They're good kids, James."

"Be mad at me if you want, Annie, but I'm telling you, that boy looked awfully guilt-ridden to me."

Ann glared at her husband through narrowed eyes. "Mmm hmm, I guess my memory is playing tricks on me. I could have sworn I remembered your hands doing their share of roaming over my body well before we were married, but I must be mistaken ..."

He retreated behind his paper, utterly routed.

* * *

"I cannot believe he said that!" Kim fumed. 

"Aw, let it go, KP. He just wants to protect you. I'm sure I'd feel the same way if I were a dad. It was kinda funny too."

"Ha ha. So funny."

They walked hand-in-hand in companionable silence until they reached the Middleton High entrance. As Ron opened the door for her, Kim noticed he seemed tense.

"You okay, Ron? You're not worried about the final, are you? I know you'll do great."

"Worried? About the final? Me? Nah, it's no big, KP. I'll be fine. We studied a lot once we got back to your house. I should be fine. I just hope he doesn't ask too much about fourth declension nouns, I just can't get the hang of those. And the ablative case, if there's a lot on that I could be in for it."

"Ron —"

"And I really hope we don't have to translate any Cicero. That dude's stuff just ties me in knots."

"Ron —"

"Aw, man, I'm gonna tank this exam for sure. Why did I let you talk me into that make-out session on the plane? And then the flight ends up taking a half hour longer than it was supposed to; what was up with that? Geez, I am so doomed. This is gonna be the worst summer ever ..."

Ron was babbling, in total freak-out mode. Fortunately, Kim had anticipated this and had a plan to deal with it. She grabbed his arm and pulled him into the janitor's closet. (Yes, _that_ closet.) She shut the door and, placing a hand on either side of his face, planted a soft, tender kiss on his lips. Once she was sure the immediate crisis had passed, she pulled out her Kimmunicator (Wade had had a new one waiting in her room after the mission; don't ask me how he does it.) and contacted her youthful tech guru.

"Hey, Wade, here's the sitch: I need you to beep me, _loud_, at 8:55 sharp. Got it?"

"Sure, Kim, can do."

"Thanks, Wade. You rock around the clock."

After ending the call, she returned her full attention to her boyfriend. Her hands on his shoulders, she locked her emerald eyes on his.

"All right, Ron Stoppable, listen to me: I have faith in you. You know this material. I know you can pass this test. You _will _pass this test. You'll treat me to that nice brunch; and then, since it's supposed to get really warm this afternoon, I thought we could spend some time at the lake. I even wore my new swimsuit under these clothes."

With that, she slowly peeled off her crop top, revealing a blue bikini bra a few shades darker than her prom dress. It wasn't the skimpiest ever, but few would call it modest; and it accented her curves wonderfully. "Like it?"

Ron's eyes grew wide. The reality of Kim in a bikini was way better than any fantasy. Placing his hands on her waist, he drew her in close.

"I love it, Kim. Thanks for pulling me back from the edge just now. You're fantastic. I know it's what's inside a person that's most important, but man, are you ever beautiful — inside and out."

"Why thank you, kind Sir," she demurely replied. "You're pretty cute yourself.

"And now, my gladiator," she not-so-demurely continued, sliding her hands up inside his shirt, "since we have about nine or ten minutes before Wade beeps us, how about I show you _my _roamin' hands?"

"Booyah!"

_

* * *

_

epilog

Middleton High School  
Grade Report

Course: Introduction to Latin  
Instructor: Mr. S. Barkin

Student Name ... ... Final Grade ...Status

Possible, Kimberly A ... A ... ... ... promoted to Grade 12  
Stoppable, Ronald ... ... B– ... ... . promoted to Grade 12

* * *

Our little tale has come to a happy end, but there's a bonus scene in Chapter 3. Wonder what was going on in Ron's head back in Chapter I before he turned into Study Boy? (That's _study_, not _studly_.) Kim nearly naked, yes, but that wasn't all. Click and find out. 

But first, in case anyone out there is still confused ...

_Amor vincit omnia et nos cedamus amori._ — Love conquers all, and let us give in to love. (Virgil)

_tempus fugit_ — time flees

_glutei_ — the 'A' of 'T&A'

_Ave, familia _Possible — do I even need to explain that one?

Oh, and for the definitive downlow on the infamous MHS janitor's closet, be sure to read MrDrP's excellent oneshot, _Kim Possible: The Spirit Dance Files_.

* * *

Costa Maya, Mexico – Limón, Costa Rica – Gatun Lake, Panama  
Sunset Beach, Jamaica – Grand Cayman  
November MMV


	3. Bonus scene

A/N: Here's a little DVD extra for you. It's sort of a deleted scene. Not exactly, it actually grew from about two lines that were deleted from Chapter I before posting. A grande-sized Naco goes to the first reviewer who guesses one or both of the original lines. (Hint: they're no longer consecutive.) Hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

As always, thanks to all the reviewers of Chapter II, and especially to my beta reader, the estimable MrDrP. Without him this bonus chapter would not even exist. (But if you don't like it, all blame is mine.)

Disclaimer: Disney owns Kim Possible, Ron and Mr. Barkin. I have no idea who owns John Wayne.

* * *

**_Kim Possible_  
**in

**The Latin Lovers**

(An _Essential Ronness_ Story)

by  
_ campy_

Bonus scene:  
**A Little Motivation**

"... you're going to want to pass this exam too. Otherwise you'll be enjoying hot summer school with Mr. Barkin while I'm hanging out at Lake Middleton. In my new swimsuit. My two-piece swimsuit."

"T– t– two? P– piece? … Simswoot? …" Ron's gaze traveled lasciviously up and down Kim's Battle Suit-clad figure. In his mind's eye the form-fitting suit disappeared, leaving only tanned, glistening skin and a few tiny bits of cloth.

_I am dating the hottest girl on the planet, _he decided.

His imagination conjured up a deserted tropical beach, with pristine white sand and palm trees swaying in a warm breeze. Kim handed him a brightly colored, ice-cold drink garnished with fruit and decorated with a little paper umbrella. _Huh? She didn't have that a second ago. Looks refreshing, though. I hope KP didn't make it …_ He sipped it and thought about how great life was.

"I was hoping you'd be around to help me put suntan lotion on," she cooed coquettishly, "but I suppose I could ask someone else …"

"Hoping? I'm right here, KP. I'd be glad to do it for you. Why would you ask someone else?"

"Because you failed Latin, Stoppable." Mr. Barkin shouted in his ear. "You're mine for the next eight weeks."

Suddenly Ron found himself sitting at a desk in Middleton High's infamous Room 12, a two-foot stack of textbooks in front of him. Mr. Barkin stood at the front of the room, dressed in his usual brown sport jacket and khaki pants. As he filled the chalkboard with complex chemical formulae and abstruse mathematical equations full of sideways-8 thingies, he recited long passages from _Lo, the Plow Shall Till the Soil of Redemption_ in a dull monotone. _Wait a minute, what's going on here?_ Ron wondered._ I passed English, chem and math! And we never did time-space stuff like that in class; that's Ph.D.-level stuff. And I never even heard the word 'abstruse' before!_

He glanced out the window; there was Kim, still on the beach. She waved at him wistfully. As Ron continued to watch, the whole scene seemed to recede into the distance.

"KP!" he shouted. He leapt to his feet and charged out of the room, down the hall and out the door. He ran full-speed into Mr. Barkin, who had somehow changed into a set of neatly pressed camouflage BDUs, topped by a drill instructor hat.

"Drop and give me fifty, Recruit!" he roared. Ron fell face-first into the mud as a torrential rain began to drench him. Oddly, Mr. Barkin remained clean and dry. Ron started to do his pushups.

He looked to his left. _Kim!_ She was still on the beach, but she was no longer alone. A crowd of tall, tanned jocks; surfer dudes; and pretty boys had gathered around her, ogling her, openly drooling.

Somehow a net appeared and a beach volleyball game broke out. Every time Kim touched the ball, one of the jocks would high-five her or pat her fanny or, after a particularly big point, twirl her around in an exultant embrace. Kim looked over at Ron every time this happened, a pained expression on her face. _Why, Ron?_ She seemed to ask. _Why did you leave me to this fate?_

Ron grew furious. _Those jerks! They can't do that to my KP!_ Ignoring his hectoring DI, he sprang to his feet and started to run to her rescue.

Out of nowhere thousands of old automobile tires covered the ground. He stumbled, fell. "Lift those legs, Stoppable!" Steve Barkin, now dressed in T-shirt and shorts with a 'Coach' cap, roared. Ron, himself now wearing a football helmet and pads, struggled to his feet and continued to try to reach his girlfriend. Footballs pelted him from all directions.

The volleyball game ended, and Kim lay face down on a lounge. The jocks and surfers lined up and took turns rubbing lotion on her gorgeous, sexy body. _Come on!_ Ron thought, _Enough is enough! How much lotion can one little bottle hold?_

At last he reached the beach. "Yesss!" he yelled triumphantly. "I'm coming for you, KP!"

But wait — something was wrong. Kim was still on the idyllic tropical beach, but Ron's beach was all in black-and-white. Bullets whistled all around him, and offshore a large fleet of naval vessels pounded the interior of the island with their massive guns. _Aw, man, not the World War II Movie Channel! I so do not have time for this._ He flopped on his belly and crawled toward Kim, but couldn't seem to close the distance. He crawled faster.

He stopped short when he collided with a pair of combat-booted feet. They belonged to Mr. Barkin, or possibly John Wayne in _Sands of Iwo Jima — _Ron had sand in his eyes and couldn't see too well at this point. "Just think, Stoppable," Barkin (it _was_ Barkin) said sadly. "If you'd passed your final you'd be there with her. She doesn't want those pretty boys, she wants you. But no, you had to be a slacker and ruin her whole summer. Are you happy now?"

_It doesn't have to be like this,_ Ron thought. _None of this is real. I'm still on the plane; there's still time to pass the final._

He blinked four or five times, then shook his head as if reeling from a Kim Possible roundhouse. He saw Kim, still in her Battle Suit, and heard the whine of the jet's engines. No beach, no war, no footballs, no time-space equations. _Yes! I knew it was all in my head! Okay, Ronman, you can do this. You learned to speak cockroach in a day, learning enough Latin to pass the final should be cake. _Reaching for his backpack he rummaged inside, quickly locating his own textbook and study guide, as well as his Latin-English dictionary. "All right then, let's get studying."

_the end_


End file.
